Ok, so I get into a trance and I find myself chugging along while my head is moving down some other track. Not exactly automatic pilot, but close. We went to see a Tibetan choir in New Bedford, apparently in Tibetan monasteries the head monks occasionally clap or ring sharp bells while questioning novices. It gets them out of their introspective heads and living and answering in the moment. I was chugging along on some long train of thought, thinking how I had said hello to five humans and at least one dog that day. It seemed unusual to see so many people out and about in the winter. Though, of course in was nice to say hi to someone, I don't do that in a car... then again there is all this muck and cloud and cold. Yeesh, there was this icky, grimy snow goo on the side to look forward to the whole way home. And was it me or did it always turn cloudy coming home...
HONK - just then a pick up truck blasts me with the horn. No reason visible, just nasty. Or perhaps he was a Buddhist master and getting me to respond in this moment. Oh look, grasshopper, there are maple syrup buckets. Namaste.
edit - see http://www.bicyclemeditations.org/road.html
